Page 6 of Rescue Me (Tempting SEALs 6.10)

The tile floor was warm and slightly sticky under her bare feet, and the overhead fan barely moved the thick air as she stood there, trying to decide what to do next. “My shoes are somewhere. If you can break off the heels, it’ll make running possible. Better than bare feet anyway.”

“We need to bring them with us, but I brought you a pair of boots.”

She locked her knees to prevent her body from swaying toward him again. What she wouldn’t do right now for a reassuring hug. But Sam wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of guy. He never wore his emotions on his sleeve. At least not that she’d seen. Which was too bad, because she’d been attracted to him from the moment they’d met. Not that she’d ever given him any indication of it. They were neighbors. Friends in a way. She didn’t want to rock that boat.

“Here, let me help you,” he said softly, sliding his hands from her waist to the front of her blouse. The backs of his fingers brushed the upper swell of her breasts as he efficiently unbuttoned her blouse before she could protest. His movements were quick, but the feel of his warm fingers stroking all the way down the center of her body made Elizabeth short of breath. Insanely she wanted him to palm the weight of her breasts and relieve the ache in her peaked nipples. She wanted him to kiss her, and touch her, and do all the things she’d dreamed about doing with him.

“You can keep on your underwear,” he said softly, not sounding as breathless and heated as Elizabeth felt. “Everything else comes off.” His slightly callused fingers cupped her shoulders, then pushed the blouse off. The blouse fell to the floor behind her with a soft whoosh. Her cheeks went hot even though she knew he couldn’t see her any better than she could see him. The temporary spurt of adventure that had brought her to Africa didn’t extend to Sam seeing her half naked. Him Tarzan, her Jane. Not. She enjoyed the armor of clothing.

“What did you bring for me to wear?” she asked curiously. She couldn’t begin to imagine Sam picking out a woman’s clothes. Unless it was something slinky in red from Victoria’s Secret. “A loincloth?”

“Better.” His hands went to the button at the waistband of her black silk pants; the graze of his fingers against her skin made her draw in her breath. “Get these off—” As he spoke, he unzipped and tugged, and before she could protest that she was capable of undressing herself, the smooth fabric fell down her legs like water, leaving her in nothing but a thong and a blush.

“Okay, step into the feet first.”

She let Sam guide her movements for two reasons: one, she couldn’t see, and he clearly could; and two, she enjoyed the feel of his hands on her. “Are you wearing night-vision goggles?”

“Yeah, but I can close my eyes if you like.” His voice was tinged with laughter. “Shy, Beth?”

“Not usually, no. But I’m not an exhibitionist either.” The fabric felt odd, but she obligingly placed her bare feet where he positioned them as he knelt in front of her. His warm, damp breath fanned her bare stomach as he leaned forward to pull the tight fabric slowly up her legs and hips. Elizabeth rested her hand on his shoulder for balance.

He nuzzled her tummy, by accident, or design, she didn’t know. She tried to ignore the fluttering in her belly and the heavy rush of her blood. Down, girl.

After her ex, Rob, had told her he was leaving, she’d wanted her world shaken up. She’d wanted adventure. Excitement. She wanted, darn it all, to live life instead of hearing or reading about it. She was sick and tired of safe and predictable. Both in men and in her life. Rob had been safe and predictable. Until he’d turned unpredictable and run off with his Internet honey.

Well, Elizabeth had wanted a wild fling with someone inappropriate, too. Someone who made her blood race, a man who could make her breath catch. She wanted one of those high-octane, alpha males she loved reading about. She’d thought Sam fit the bill to a tee. Unfortunately, he was clearly not interested in her.

Which was why, against all sane advice, she’d gone to the medical symposium in Cape Town in the first place. Yeah, she thought dryly. Look how well that turned out.

He palmed her ass, res

ting his face against her belly as he ran his fingers lightly across her behind. He inhaled deeply. “God, you smell incredible. Lemon and musk. I could eat you right now.”

The feel of his exploring fingers, and the scalding heat of Sam’s breath against her skin, was making her so hot Elizabeth had to bite her lip to prevent crying out. “Cool your jets, sailor, we’re in deep shit right now. I’m presuming by rescue you mean remove us from this place as fast as possible?” She tapped his shoulder to get his attention, and was appalled at how disappointed she was when he removed his hands from her ass and his mouth from her stomach. She cleared her throat and took a small step away from him. “What’s this? Some kind of bodysuit?”

“Made out of one of the toughest man-made fibers invented.”

“Sam, I’m going to die of heat enclosed in this rubbery stuff. Let me put my own clothes back on, and—”

“LockOut will maintain your body temp at ninety-eight-point-six degrees. It’ll also keep the bugs out. Lift your chin—” He zipped her up all the way. The fabric was lightweight and not that uncomfortable, even if it did cover her from neck to toes.

“Boots.” He slid each foot into a boot, then laced it. “How’s that feel?”

She stomped her feet. “Perfect.” How did he know her size?

“Give me your hand.” Cradling her right hand in his large palm, Sam applied a topical liquid antibiotic, by the smell of it, then, after waiting a few seconds for it to dry, covered the wound with a Band-Aid. “That should do it. Let me know if it bothers you. I can give you a shot.”

She’d give herself the shot, thank you very much. But it was good to know he had medical supplies should she need them.

The salve felt cool, and the topical numbing immediately took away some of the pain. “Thanks,” she whispered. “The only thing I had was cold water and the granular sugar they brought me with a meal.”

“Sugar?” His voice came up from knee level, and she wondered what he was doing, and if he was about to touch her again. Her entire body tensed in anticipation. But by the sounds, he was gathering her clothes. Then she heard a zipper slide, then after a few seconds slide again.

She forced herself to take nice slow easy breaths. “Decreased the bleeding, promoted clotting, and when push came to shove, the only thing I had to discourage bacteria.”

The scalpel’s penetrating cut had left a fairly deep gash, ripe for anaerobic bacteria. In this hot, steamy climate even a small open wound was a concern. “How did you know about the cut?”

“I was watching. That was a hell of a brave thing you did. Letting that asshole cut you like that.”

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